Something to Smile About
by Emperor of Aces
Summary: Doze was a thinker, not a talker. He always wanted to have friends, but when it came to making them, he was, quite frankly, too afraid to try.    But then one day a member of the rival gang invites him to go try on tacky clothes and have ice cream...


**Something to Smile About  
**

Doze had acquaintances within The Felt, but he was not sure if he could call them friends. Itchy and Snowman seemed to like him, but they never went out of their way to be with him, or to do the kind of things he believed friends did with one another. He was afraid that they didn't feel the same way he felt about them, and that he'd offend them if he dared bestow upon them the title that was, at least in his mind, an honorific of the highest kind. While he was too uncomfortable to call them friends, he could at least say he felt comfortable being around them, but when they were away, he felt invisible. None of the other Felt had expressed any sort of distaste towards him, but they acted as though he wasn't there, and he was too scared to ask them why.

The Mansion was the most lonely sea of familiar faces.

When Snowman and Itchy were gone, he needed to get away as well. Doze often went to quiet places where he was free to sit about and think without any noisy disturbances, and that afternoon, with Alternia's sun at its zenith, preparing to make its plunge towards the jagged city skyline, he was in the playground at the park. Aside for a family of three white-carapaced Prospitians who paid him no mind, Doze was all alone. He sat on a creaky metal swing with his chubby green hands folded neatly in his lap, letting the breeze push him lightly back and forth, .

Though he was well of age to drink, gamble, screw, and do all manner of things considered exclusively 'adult', Doze didn't feel out of place in the park. Being under five feet tall, slightly overweight, and possessing a set of large eyes that always looked like they were on the verge of tears, he looked like a child, so no one ever questioned his presence. And besides, he was never much into 'those' kind of things anyway. He though they would be fun on occasion, but he'd rather play his cards for the fun, not the money. He just wished the other members of The Felt could feel the same.

He sighed quietly, watching the two Prospitians and their daughter. The child was laughing as she zoomed down a metallic rippled slide and her parents sat together on a wooden bench, their fingers intertwined as they held hands, watching their little girl play. They were smiling too.

Doze looked away, feeling a sharp pang of jealousy. He wished he could be like them.

"Hey, mister person, are you alright? Why are you crying?"

Startled by the obnoxious voice that was practically yelling, Doze stumbled forward off the swing. His blue top-hat slipped off his head and he nearly tripped on his own two feet. He turned in the direction of the voice and saw a Dersite with a body not unlike his own except, to his amazement, even shorter. With horror, he realized it was Clubs Deuce, the demolitions expert of his gang's arch rival, the Midnight Crew.

"I am _not_ crying!" He retrieved his top-hat, brushed off the dirt, and practically slammed it back onto his head. "Some of the playground sand just blew up into my face, is all."

"Okay, sure. That's what Slick says too when he thinks about his girlfriend...except with him it's usually invisible dirt from the spotless kitchen floor." Deuce glanced around and then pursed his lips in puzzlement. "Hey, where are all your buddies? You're from The Felt, right? I though you guys were a really _big_ gang!"

Doze tried to glare and look menacing, but his eyes filled up too much and his lower lip quivered as he battled with a sob that desperately wanted to be released. Was his friendless state really that obvious? "W-we are a big gang! Sometime I j-just like to get away, s-sometimes." He sniffled in a way that was far sloppier and louder than he intended for it to be.

"You are totally crying, you know." Deuce sounded like he was saying it without menace, but that was impossible – he was from the Midnight Crew.

Doze stomped a foot and scrunched up his shoulders, his hands balled into frustrated fists. Snot and tears began to dribble down his over-heated face. "I. Am. Not. CRYING!"

"Yes you are." Deuce said it the way one might if they were informing Doze that his skin was green. "Here, have a tissue." Deuce fished out a clean, albeit linty, tissue from the pocked of his pants and held it out to Doze.

Doze could only blink dumbly at the strange offering. "Huh?"

"Go on, take it." He moved the tissue closer to Doze's face. "Your face is kind of messy now, so you really need this tissue."

"Um, thanks." Doze slowly reached out to take the tissue, making sure he didn't brush fingers with Deuce in the process, and then noisily turned it into a snotty mess. His watery eyes found Deuce's, whose stared back in a way that was suspiciously...worried. Not malicious, or diabolical, or murderous. Worried. Doze didn't get it. "Isn't this the part where you're suppose laugh at me or do something mean now?"

"Laugh at you?" Deuce sounded genuinely horrified and insulted that Doze would ever consider such a thing. "Why would I do that? It's okay to cry, you know."

Doze balled up the tissue and put it in his pocket. "Why shouldn't you laugh? I'm all alone, and I cried, and then I lied about crying, and you're from the Midnight Crew, so you hate me."

"Hate you?" He swatted a tiny hand through the air and made a comically inappropriate sound with his mouth. "I don't hate you! I don't hate anybody. Slick is the only one of us who really, really hates you guys. But Slick kind of hates everybody, so don't let him get to you." Out of nowhere, Deuce abruptly grabbed Doze's hands and stared up at him with his mouth open in a wide smile and his pale eyes glowing with playful mirth. "You said you're all alone, right?"

Doze wanted to pull away, to lie and tell him no, but he didn't want to be rude. He swallowed his pride, and it went down a bit like a rock wrapped in barbwire. "Yes."

Deuce bounced up and down on the balls of his feet while still gripping Doze's hands. "My friend Droog is up the street buying new suits and he told me to go away while he's doing that, and he gave me a hundred dollars to spend on whatever I want. I want to try on tacky clothes at the thrift store and then buy ice cream! I think you should be my friend and go do all that stuff with me because you look like you need a friend to go do fun stuff with."

"Yeah, I'd love to but I kind of have to go back to my house and..." Doze's train of thought derailed into nothingness, for he could not think of a proper lie. He knew, however, that it was because in his heart, he strongly wished to go do all manner of ridiculous things with Deuce, but at the same time, his instincts told him to avoid anything even vaguely related to the Midnight Crew.

"No, you don't." Deuce gave Doze a gentle tug. "You're a very bad liar. I hang out with the king of liars," he dropped his voice to a whisper and cupped a hand to his mouth, "that's Slick." Then he pulled away and allowed his voice to return to its normal volume. "So I know when someone is lying. Now come on, we're going to go try on silly clothes first."

Deuce turned away then and began running up the street towards the thrift store. At first Doze was going to let the Dersite go and head the other way towards the Mansion, but he couldn't. He wanted a friend more than anything in the world, and the though of passing up this fleeting opportunity was more painful to him than the thought of what punishment he might suffer at the hands of his fellows if word ever got out.

"Hey, Deuce! Wait up!" he called and took off after him.

xxx

In the form of a wide-brimmed straw hat adorned with faux daisies, Doze added the final tacky touch to his fashion atrocity. He was certain that his outfit was so sacrilegious to the world of fashion that he could never be forgiven for it, and he couldn't wait to see his reflection in the mirror.

He stumbled towards Deuce's changing stall in an oversized and mismatched set of spike pumps and knocked on the door. "Are you done in there? I want you to see how bad I look this time. I think it's even funnier than the last outfit."

His last one had been a baggy red pajama top with a repeating Scottie dog print and a yellow mini skirt. That outfit had been funny, but this once certainly topped it, save for the fact that it did not relate to the Midnight Crew's kingpin's perverse obsession.

"I'm almost done, just a sec." From the other side of the door Doze heard a series of shuffles, bumps, and clacks as barren coat-hangers were tossed to the floor. Then the door swung open and the two of them erupted into uproarious laughter at the sight of each other.

Deuce was wearing a huge pink top covered head-to-toe in neon green polka-dots. It was so enormous that the sleeves were at least four times the length of his arms and they trailed on the ground behind him like a set of streamers. Strapped to his chest like a harness was a bra with cups so large that Doze could have worn one as a hat, and on Deuce's head was a pair of panties.

"That's not how you're suppose to wear those!" Doze said over a fit of giggles.

"So? It's not about wearing the clothes 'correctly', it's about how silly you look." Deuce laughed again, his pale eyes squinted in amusement. "I think you did a great job with yours this time. You look really silly. Here, take a gander at yourself."

Deuce stepped aside and Doze found himself presented with a hysterically comical treat of the visual sort. He started laughing quite hard all over again, only this time at the green-skinned individual staring back at him. The too-tight, red and yellow horizontally striped shirt was strained across his stomach while his grey pants were the length-wise companions to Deuce's shirt. He was draped head-to-toe in gaudy costume jewelery and he wore pumps – one red, one blue – of entirely different heel heights. And, yes, the terrible hat really was the crowning piece of hilarity.

When his laughs subsided, Doze wobbled out, feeling very top-heavy in the heels, and stood beside Deuce, his usually pouting face bright with a grin. "Your friend with the really good fashion sense would flip right now, wouldn't he?"

"Oh gosh!" He might kill us for real! Or at least he'd yell at us really loud."

They both began to laugh again, but were suddenly interrupted by a third voice.

"Excuse me, boys, but what-" It was the clerk, a tall Dersite female, who suddenly cut her sentence short when she saw the two of them looking a bit like a polka-dot parachute and a colorful stuffed sausage.

At that point, one of the buttons on Doze's shirt decided it was time to jump ship, but he couldn't be bothered to chase after it as it rolled across the floor, for fear of popping more or for falling flat on his face from the heels. He knew he should have been embarrassed, but he nearly burst out laughing again. Avoiding eye-contact with the clerk, he sucked in his lips in hopes of concealing his smile, but he was certain his quivering shoulders gave away the fact that he was still feeling as bubbly as a bottle of champagne.

"Hello misses sales lady!" Deuce waved up to the clerk and also drew a humored and involuntary snort from Doze.

The clerk sighed and shook her head. It looked like she was used to seeing this kind of shenanigans. "Just put it all back when you're done."

"Alrighty misses lady!" Deuce spoke to the clerk with great enthuse, but then the turned to Doze and said, quietly, so that it was almost a whisper, "Okay, I think that was our cue to leave. She didn't seem happy." He took the panties off his head and snatched Doze's straw hat as well. "So, let's get out real clothes back on and then we'll go get ice cream. Sound like a plan?"

Doze smiled at his new friend and began to removed the tacky jewelery that was draped over him like a bunch of glittery vines. "You bet."

xxx

When they were all done returning the terrible clothes to their proper racks, the two of them hurried off to Deuce's favorite ice cream parlor. The sun had just set, painting the edges of the clouds a light pink, and they were lucky enough to make it in right before the shop closed.

Deuce ordered strawberry and Doze bought caramel swirl, then the two of them went outside to eat their treats at one of the picnic tables in front of the shop. Ice cream was a treat Doze rarely got the chance to indulge himself in ('real' gangsters didn't eat sissy foods like that, according to his fellows) so he consumed it even slower than usual, relishing every sweet bite and not caring how much it melted, because it was so delicious that he wasn't beyond eating it even after it had turned to mush. Both of them were silent, but it was a comfortable, contented kind of silence and Doze found himself thinking about how wonderfully weird it was that he'd finally found a friend in someone who was a member of the Midnight Crew.

Doze finished and pushed his empty Styrofoam cup and plastic spoon towards the center of the table. "Wow, that was really good. I should come here more often."

Deuce, also finished with his ice cream, was playing with his spoon, bending it between his fingers until it was dangerously close to springing away. "Everybody should have ice cream more often. And get out and do fun stuff more, too."

"Yeah." Doze twiddled his thumbs and lowered his head, casting his gaze sidewards. He wanted to say something, many somethings in fact, but he didn't know how. Sometimes he really hated how slow he was with words.

Sighing, Deuce reached out and took Doze's nervous hands. "You've been talking to me fine all day. Why so awkward all of a sudden?"

"I..well.." Sweat beaded on his face and his eyes darted from side to side, trying to avoid making contact with Deuce.

Deuce gave Doze's clammy hands a light squeeze. "C'mon, look at me." His tone was a playful command, like that of an older sibling trying to encourage a younger one.

Doze swallowed the painful lump in his throat and raised his head. "I was wondering if maybe...possibly...we could, you know, do something like this again some time." He wanted to add how much he liked to smile and laugh for a change, and that most of all he loved having a friend, but he was too shy, too scared, to say it.

"Of course!" Deuce answered Doze as though The Felt member had asked some preposterous question. "We could do something like go to the pet store and play with the three-eyed kitties or go to the beach...or anything else you'd want to do, really." He shrugged and smiled. "How about we meet in the park this same day next week? Only, let's get here early so we can have more fun."

Doze's little mouth slowly turned into a sheepish smile. "Okay."

He truly meant it. There would be no lying, no intentionally blowing Deuce off. Doze would be there, he promised himself he'd make sure of that, and the two of them could once again have a great time.

Doze finally had something to smile about.

He finally had a friend.

"Deuce? Deuce, where are you? It's late and we have to go."

Deuce let go of Doze's hands and jolted out of his seat. "Crap! That's Droog. Well, looks like I got to leave now. I might get in trouble if he sees me with you." He started off in the direction of Droog's voice, looking over his shoulder as he walked so he could wave his good-byes to Doze. "See ya!"

"D-Deuce, wait!" Doze stumbled out of his seat, catching the tail of his coat on a protruding nail and tearing a large rip down the back. He couldn't stop to worry with it though, he needed to say good bye properly.

Deuce halted and turned around, his head cocked in curiosity. "What is it?"

"I..." Doze wanted to say 'thank you', but it still felt too strange to him; him, a member of The Felt, saying thank you to Deuce from the Midnight Crew. "I..."

His tongue was like a lump of useless meat in his mouth, so instead of trying to speak with cumbersome words, he grabbed Deuce by the lapels of his coat and pulled him into a tight hug. He was expecting Deuce to be horrified or bewildered – a member of The Felt was hugging him! – but instead Deuce wrapped his arms around Doze's waist and squeezed him back. It felt so nice to hug someone, and even nicer to be hugged back.

Deuce broke the embrace and, though he knew it was necessary for the Dersite to depart, Doze immediately missed the warmth.

"You give really good hugs. You should hug people more often, too." Deuce tipped his porkpie hat. "I got to go for real this time, though. Bye, Doze, see ya next week."

Doze smiled his thin little smile and waved single-handedly using just his fingers. "Bye."

He watched until Deuce had disappeared down the street, and then he headed in the other direction towards the Mansion. It was going to be a long, lonely walk back.

xxx

The sky became cloudy as the night dragged on, first obscuring the stars and then later blanketing Alternia's dual moons. By the time Doze arrived back home, the word was almost in complete darkness. He didn't see any lights on, every window was as black as the sky, so he assumed everyone was asleep. The early summer air was muggy, and he found himself sweating in his suit as he fumbled with his house key. He retrieved it from his pocket at last and pulled the door open, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

Stepping into the Mansion was like stepping into an icebox. All he could see of the furniture were nebulous shadows hulking about in the dark, and had there been any light to see by, he would have been able to see his breath come out in plumes.

An icy finger, entirely unrelated to the Mansion's temperature, trailed its way down the length of his spine. It felt like there were eyes he couldn't see boring into him from afar with an anger so potent it couldn't even bother to be hot. Instead, it was cold. Cold and dark, and as unforgiving as the void of space.

Doze shook his head and laughed humorlessly to himself as he closed the front door behind him. Everyone was asleep and the air conditioning was on because it was summer. There was no logical reason for him to feel so worked up.

But still, he could not shed that dreadful haze of fear that hovered around him like a cloud of pestilent flies. His knees wanted to give away, and his hand trembled as it returned the house key to his pocket.

"Out a little late, were you not?"

A single light flashed on, blinding Doze for one terrifying moment as it reflected livid white off a bulbous, cueball-like head. Doze's eyes adjusted to the harshness and before him he saw Doc Scratch, his posture stiff and his arms crossed over his chest. He was still fully dressed in his day clothes, an all-white suit with matching pants, and had clearly not been sleeping.

"I was...I was just..." Doze trailed off, his mind too awash in fear to successfully articulate a comeback.

He'd been caught. He didn't know how, but he'd been caught. And now Scratch would make him pay.

"I can not have you continuing this kind of behavior, Doze." The man had no face upon which he could display his emotions, but his frigid anger dripped from his words like icicles. "Even if you may think, within the boundaries of your feeble intellect, that you were merely having a day of harmless fun, I can prove to you otherwise."

"I can explain-"

Scratch cut the air with a gloved hand, silencing Doze. "No, I can explain. Friendship is a dangerous thing amongst men such as ourselves. You become friends with a man, you open your heart to him. Your weaknesses, your strengths, your worries, your dreams – you display them all to him on a platter plated with that false stuff you call companionship. And thus, you display to him – the enemy – all that we are, and in that you risk everything we stand for.

"What if there comes a day there you have to kill him, Doze?" Scratch had no eyes, but Doze knew he was looking at him with a gaze as hard as diamonds. "Well?"

Doze opened his mouth, but all he could do was suck in a shaky breath of air. It had only been for a few hours, but his hateful view of the nefarious Midnight Crew had already been marred by Deuce's kindness.

A fat tear rolled down his round face.

What would he do if he ever had to face Deuce?

He started giggling then, a terrible, crazy sort of sound he'd never made before, and it was all because he didn't god damn know.

Scratch titled his faceless head. "You do not know, do you?"

Doze's brief spattering of laughter dissolved into a series of nervous hiccups, and finally into silence. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and shrugged.

"I thought so. Now, I believe a little attitude adjustment is in store for you in order to-"

"SCRATCH!"

She stood in the doorway leading to the parlor, leaning against the frame in a way that could have easily been mistaken as casual, for she made it seem so lax and sensuous. She wore only a silk nightgown, its gossamer fabric translucent and leaving nothing to the imagination as it clung to every curve. In her right hand she held a cigarette, though absent of her trademark holder, and from it she took a long drag. Her white eyes were narrowed in disappointment.

To Doze, she looked like a fallen angel. It took all of his will power to keep him from running to her, clinging to her dress, and crying. Fallen angel or not, he just wanted her to help him.

"Leave him alone, Scratch." Her voice was an angry purr. "He doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. He just messed up and he promises he won't let it happen again." Snowman locked eyes with Doze. "Isn't that right, Doze?"

He bit his lower lip and nodded, fighting back tears that burned in the corners of his eyes.

"He was conspiring with the the demolitions expert of the Midnight Crew. I will not have for this kind of-"

Snowman blew a ring of smoke and rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't tell me that story. Playing in the park or whatever isn't 'conspiring', and it's not worthy of punishment. You and I both know that."

"Yes, but-"

"I _fuck_ their kingpin." Each word oozed with venom. "And I don't see you punishing me for that, now do I?"

That shut him up.

"Go to your room, Doze." Her tone was neutral, though Doze swore he could detect a note of sympathy in her voice. "Scratch and I are going to have a little talk."

For once in his life, Doze moved as fast as he could.

Though usually a hygiene freak who even went as far as to spritz himself with cologne before bed, just to make sure he still smelled good come morning, Doze skipped his nightly shower and dove right into the pillowy comfort of his own bed. He cuddled his raggedy blue teddy bear, Humphrey, to his chest and let the waterworks flow.

His heart hurt so much. It was worse than physical pain; he could fix physical pain. He could have Stitch sew him up, or take pills, or apply bandages to make better his cuts and wounds. But this kind of pain just wouldn't stop hurting. No bandage, or needle, or drug could save him from this agony. Time itself was the only medicine, but he of all people knew how slowly that intangible doctor liked to work.

When the pain built to a nearly unbearable climax, Doze finally let go and activated his powers, plunging himself into that sweet, sweet abyss where the world around him continued on at one second per second, but time for him stood almost at rest.

xxx

The next week, Clubs Deuce would return to the park, right at the spot where he had first encountered Doze, who had been sad and alone because he had no friends. With his mind full of nigh-eternal sunshine and viewing all cups as half-full, Deuce would wait.

...and wait.

…and wait.

Nobody would show up.


End file.
